


The End of Undeath

by A_Slaaneshi_Typist



Category: Warhammer Fantasy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Slaaneshi_Typist/pseuds/A_Slaaneshi_Typist
Summary: After a bloody struggle to take the noble Tomb King city of Lybaras, the home of Queen Khalida, devoted of Asaph, Malus and Tz'arkan come upon the queen in her chambers. Expecting to simply cut the noble undead regent down and be done with it, the Daemon of Slaanesh has other plans.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	The End of Undeath

Black smoke billowed from the sandy shoreline as the Black Ark launched wave after wave of bolts onto the docks. Malus stood from the highest tower on the monumental vessel and stared through his spy glass, watching as the skeletons scrambled and tried to man defenses, but his Black Ark had caught them unawares, and their fortifications had been undermined by Shades who’d been landed behind the line the night before. Any war machine beyond the walls capable of firing upon their Black Ark had been damaged beyond repair, and all the Nekeharans could do was pull back and wait for a contested landing.  
He smiled as he watched the foe begin to retreat, pulling back further, away from the maximum range of his artillery. It seemed the first phase of his conquest of Lybaras was over.  
“The magical artifacts in Nekehara will give us such great power Malus.” he heard T’zarkan’s echoing deep voice in his head, tingling in his mind. “Or at least, they’ll give Malekith great power for his invasion of the Asur. You of course, will simply do as ordered. A puppet in more ways than one I see…”   
“Be quiet daemon! Must you constantly interrupt my thoughts?! I am busy directing this offensive. You shall have your fun when we reach the beaches, for now do me a kindness and silence yourself!”  
“Do not presume to command me Malus, I am a greater Daemon of Slaanesh and-”  
“…and I am the Drachau Tyrant of Har Graef!” he roared. “I will not be commanded so easily myself, not by the likes of you! You get to be a greater Daemon when I LET you, and no time sooner!”  
The Daemon of Slaanesh grumbled, but was quiet, for now. Darkblade started down the steps of the great tower, to the courtyard of the massive floating fortress, preparing himself for battle. Considering the strength of Lybaras, even with the full might of a Black Ark at its shore, it was likely that Tz’arkan would be needed if he was to get anywhere, as much as he hated to admit it.   
The strength of the Daemon was undeniable, and a good commander used all his assets wisely. With the help of the Slaaneshi spawn, he could carve a path all the way through to the backline. Then he’d finally be able to kill whatever dried up skeletal mage was keeping these things standing. After that, it would just be getting to Khalida. That much, he could handle.  
The massive vessel reached the shoreline, a huge drawbridge falling from it and onto the sand as thousands of Darkshards, Dreadspears, and Corsairs rushed the beaches, running past the seemingly abandoned defenses of the undead legions. As they did so however, the bodies of thousands of skeletons they’d presumed broken rose yet again from the sand.   
Grains of sand drained like little waterfalls from their eyes and mouths as the legions of Nekehara formed up once more. Ushabti rose with them, and a mighty Tomb Scorpion that had been knocked on its back by a concentration of bolts. There were many broken bones, cracked ribs, and shattered arms and legs, but the ancient magic of the Mortuary Cults healed these wounds. They’d simply feigned retreat, and waited for the Druchii to come close. As long as the Lich Priests commanding the armies were still standing, they’d keep getting up forever.  
Not deterred by this force standing before them, the Dark Elves threw themselves into the fight, ancient bronze clashing against black enameled steel. The Naggarothi violently smashed through the undead mass, giving praise to Khaine, and asking forgiveness that their current foe would not soak the sand with blood as they cut them down.  
The loud and confident force of Druchii stood in great contrast to the silent forces of Nekehara, high tower shields holding firm and spears thrusting outward as swords cutting down in practiced, well drilled lockstep. Every skeletal legionary bore the knowledge of his equipment and his place in the army deep in what was left of his consciousness, the lessons learned in the mustering field and countless battles past were now almost all that remained in the minds of these thralls.  
A force of well armed Tomb Guard protected the rear flanks from the Dark Riders attempting to strike at the archers as they formed up. The bowmen of Lybaras were legendary, even thousands of years after the last of them had drawn their final breath. As the Druchii cavalry tried to get at them, they began to fire into their foe’s disorganized, messy mob.   
The Dark Elves hadn’t expected a contested landing after their Reaper Bolt Throwers had dealt what had been seen as such a heavy toll on their foe, and as such they hadn’t had time to form up into an orderly line, and get shields up to resist the arrows of Asaph. Now, they were feeling the consequences of their hubris. The charge began to buckle from the arrows, the furious infantry press, and the constructs mighty swinging blades and snapping pincers of the Tomb Scorpion.   
But as the Naggarothi were forced back towards their vessel, a bloody cry came from the drawbridge! Reinforcements were here at last! A lot of them, and they were hungry for glory.  
Three War Hydras came hissing into the battle, breathing fire into the skeletal legions, charring bone and smashing shields and spears under their bulk. One of them caught the Tomb Scorpion in its three-headed grip and literally pulled it apart. Behind this crippling charge of warbeasts was a host of Cold One Knights, very much in their element in the searing desert sun, and at their head was Malus Darkblade, mounted atop his fearsome and deadly companion, Spite.  
Above his head, he twirled the Warpsword of Khaine, the dreaded Cold One rearing up to stand tall, that all wavering Druchii may see him, and hear his words.  
“I do not intend to lose a battle to these dead men, my ruthless and merciless host. Are we truly so weak as to be broken by long rotted corpses?! Regroup and charge, that we may take the riches of this ancient city for our own! That, or face the wrath of Tz’arkan, THE CHOICE IS YOURS!”  
Shamed and driven to new heights of hatred and violence by their commander’s words, the Dark Elves held and formation and formed ranks quickly. All soldiers not on the front rank wrenched their shields above their heads to stop the stinging rain of Asaph’s fury, and finally, the line was stabilized. The massive hydras were being heavily targeted now, but their scaly skin allowed them to shrug off most arrows, though that would only last so long.  
Malus and his Cold Ones turned and swooped around the lines of carnage, right as the first ranks of Darkshards were finally able to form up properly and start paying the Nekeharans back for their furious hail of death.  
They rode around the mass of melee towards the flanks, and the Tomb Guard closed ranks and held firm, the fallen corpses of both Dark Elf and corrupted steed laid around them, from when the light cavalry had attempted to break through, but these weren’t lightly armed and armored riders they were dealing with this time. These were Cold Ones.   
The reptiles smashed into the skeletons, leaping high so that the halberd armed troops couldn’t get a proper arcing swing on them, and slammed into the formation. A few fell, but the line was forced apart and broken. The raptors tore havoc amongst the archer’s guarding regiments, pulling apart a gap in the lines and beginning to spill through. It looked like the Cold One Knights would be victorious, but the arrows of Asaph then switched targets.   
The full hail came down upon the knights, not in an arc as before, but straight on, shooting knights off steeds and killing dozens of his veteran cavalry. It was looking bad, and so Malus knew what he had to do. He leapt from Spite’s back and slapped the Cold One on the flank, ordering him to flee. The beast knew what that meant, and he ran, retreating back towards the Black Ark.   
“Oh, must I mop up your mess again, Malus? How surprising, your idiotic headlong charge failed.”  
The Drachau ignored this comment and simply picked up Nekeharan shield, sitting behind it for a moment and chugging down his sleeping draft.  
“Finally…” Tz’arkhan took hold, and Malus felt himself drift into deep sleep…  
…  
Meanwhile, on the walls of Lybaras, overlooking the harbor…  
…  
Khalida watched as the forces of Naggaroth were broken upon her lines. They were holding for now, but her archers would bring them down, and they’d be forced to slink back to that frozen wasteland they called home. If she still had lips, she would have been smirking, watching the Cold One Knights torn apart on by her archer’s never-ending hail of blessed arrows. The last of them were retreating now, to be cut down before they reached their gaudy, ugly, black, floating rock.  
Suddenly, an explosion of pink light drew her attention back to the Tomb Guards. She saw a dark figure amongst the pale tan of her skeletal warriors, cutting down ten at a time, ripping through her forces as if they were nothing. Arrows hailed down upon him, and yet nothing happened.   
The Tomb Guard surrounded him on all sides, and a massive blast of pink magic sent them all flying. He ran at unnatural speed into her archers and began tearing utter havoc through them. No matter how many skeletons her Liche Priests threw at this… juggernaut, he would not fall. There seemed nothing that could stop him.   
Without the rain of Asaph’s disciples supporting them, her infantry on the frontline began to buckle, and yet more riders came out of the black ark. The Lich Priests began to attempt to pull back, and at once, the figure made for them.   
It had only been toying with her archers and rear guard before, now it was headed towards the true heart of her forces, the Liche Priests. They were unable to get away in time, and so threw spells at him, but there was little effect. Even when they knocked him down, the figure kept coming. She could hear him laughing… he was mad!  
It ripped apart one Liche Priest, two, and finally the third, the magic they’d been wielding lost as they fell, sapping the surrounding area utterly.   
Dismay gripped her heart as her forces began to falter, and then all at once, crumbled to dusty bones. Turning she watched as the civilians did so as well, the undead thralls of Lybaras falling mid-stride as the magic that animated them whisked away like fine sand on a breeze.  
It was over… Lybaras had fallen. She could have more Liche Priests, more legions soon, but there wouldn’t be time… they were defenseless. She walked down from the walls, through the sandy streets of her home, to the palace, to wait for her conquerors to do whatever they meant to do to her.  
…  
The Gates of Lybaras  
…  
Tz’arkan was still gloating even 15 minutes after Malus had woken up. “Haha, you should have seen their faces, their stupid dead faces, when I smashed them to pieces! So arrogant, so sure, and now they’re dust in the wind, literally, the dried out old priests…”  
“Yes yes thank you, now please shut up, you’re getting more infuriating by the moment… I will have wine brought and I will drink you into silence!”  
“Oh you hurt my feelings Malus.” Tz’arkan replied with an overly emotional, mocking tone. “I help you out of a tight spot and all you do is badmouth me for being proud of myself? It’s almost like we’re not friends at all!”  
“WINE!” he roared over his shoulder, sending several Dreadspears scurrying towards the Black Ark to get some.  
“Alright alright, I’m shutting up. You’re no fun.” The Daemon complained.  
The War Hydras got into position and with a mighty roar all three dispensed their flame across the bronze gates of Lybaras. The metal twisted and bent, becoming weak and brittle, before the beasts crashed through, sending half-melted hunks of bronze flying everywhere. The Dark Elf commander walked through and into the sandy streets, looking around at the discarded skeletons of the populace. All of them were now lying in the sand motionless.   
The Liche Priests had drawn a tremendous amount of magic from everywhere to keep the army going. Now there was nothing to keep the civilians standing up in their mockery of life, so they’d returned to their everlasting sleep. Uncontested, the Dark Elves began occupying the sandy, barren city, looting buildings, taking control of the walls, and staring in awe at the architecture.   
Lybaras had been the center of worship for Asaph across all of Nekehara, and even after thousands of years of desert and sea winds had eroded much of it away, it was still a very beautiful city. White marble pillars, half faded with hieroglyphs displaying the great deeds of kings past, and the mythology of the Land of the Dead’s pantheon.   
There were ancient banners that still fluttered in the breeze, in tatters for centuries, their heraldry all but bleached away by the sun’s crippling heat. Some constructs stood in along the approach to the city, several Warsphinxes and Necrosphinxes, and dozens of Ushabti, but without the magic to give them life, they were motionless. No witch-fire animated their eyes, not a single one stirred.  
Finally, he came to palace, and to his surprise, found it open. He walked into the long halls, still beautiful and polished, supports guilded in gold and set with precious gemstones in wonderful patterns lined the march across a long aqua dyed carpet with gold trim. At the top of a small set of stairs, was Khalida, queen of Lybaras.  
She sat, one leg crossed over the other, on the throne, carved of solid gold into the head of a cobra, with rubies set in the eyes. She sat on the snake’s lower lip, looking down on her conqueror as every Lord and Lady of Lybaras had looked down on their subjects in ages passed.  
Right away Tz’arkan sensed her soul, its desires, regrets, wishes… and he had an idea. Malus began to speak with her, as the daemon prepared a spell.   
“Surrender, Queen of Lybaras, and perhaps I’ll show mercy…” he said.  
The golden face mask she wore seemed to stare down at him with bemused contempt, as if she took nothing he said seriously. “Hmmm, and if I don’t?” she said, fingers drumming softly on the head of her cobra-headed staff.  
He pointed the Warpsword of Khaine at the animated corpse. “Then you will regret it, briefly, before your soul is lost to this world.”  
As Khalida rose and prepared to die defending her home from these wicked dark forces that sought to destroy it, Tz’arkan released his magics.  
A bolt of smoky black magic with pink tendrils running through it like lightning struck Khalida dead in the chest. She gasped and stumbled backward, falling to one knee.   
“TZ’ARKAN! You insolent worthless, stupid-“  
“Quiet Malus, I have not killed her! Just watch…”  
Khalida cried out as sensation overtook her form yet again. Skin rehydrated, flesh grew into its full strength as it had been ages past. She felt air in her lungs again after so long, and she realized how much she missed breathing. She saw with her own two eyes, as they grew back from her sockets. She felt organs grow once more in her body, the beating of her own heart, the feeling of blood running through her long-dried up viens. She raised a hand and stared as red raw muscle covered it, and then skin grew over, restoring the softness and beauty of her features.  
Once it was over she felt herself all over, and quickly began throwing off her clothes, all of them, while Malus watched, wide eyes.  
“Tz’arkan… what did you do?”  
He asked, hesitantly, as the desert queen stripped down to full nudity in front of him, finally tossing aside her golden death mask, and staring down at the polished floor at her reflection. There were tears running down her face and she was laughing manically, shuddering all over and touching every part of herself.   
“I restored her to her full beauty… temporarily. As long as we are close to her, I can keep the spell active, as long as she serves us and bolsters our legions with her undead hordes, she can remain this way.”  
Malus smiled, something he didn’t do very often. “Did I ever tell you how wonderful it is to have you around sometimes?”  
“You could stand to mention it more.” Tz’arkan replied.  
The Queen fell back onto her throne. Her hands running all over herself, her eyes wide and still filled with tears. After so long, so many years of torment, so long condemned to a life of being nothing but a husk, she was whole again. Her beauty and youth were returned… she was alive!   
Finally, she focused on him. “You… you did this… how, how did you, how?! How did you do it, how did you bring me back to how I was?!”  
“That’s not important.” Malus said. “What is important is that I can take it all away, if you don’t behave.  
Before her eyes, Khalida watched her index finger begin to whither again getting wrinkled, the digit going numb and starting to shrivel.  
“NO NO NO NO!!! Please, please, please I’ll give you anything you want, please, let me stay this way.”  
Malus quite enjoyed the sound of her begging. It was quite amusing, having such a beautiful Queen beg him so desperately. Tz’arkan allowed her finger to grow back to how it was as Malus drank in the full beauty of Khalida, Warrior Queen of Lybaras.  
Her skin was bronzed by desert sun, and shone in the dim firelight of the throne room’s torches. Her hair was a jet black, braided into shoulder length cords that were filled with gold and silver ornaments that tinkled softly when she moved her head. Her almond shaped eyes black and shining as polished obsidian. Her lips were a deep red, full and plump, he imagined how they’d look wrapped around his cock, and decided he quite liked that idea. Her face was feminine and beautiful, spotless and devoid of all imperfection. Her arms were strong and muscled, her fingers each painted in patterns of gold and white. She had full, large breasts, as big as his head, tipped with wide dark brown nipples. To compliment her bountiful chest, her belly was tight and toned, he could even see the outline of the muscle beneath the skin. Her legs were long and smooth with painted toes to match her fingers.  
He took hold of her hand, and pulled her flush against his chest.   
“Anything you say?” he asked. “At all?”  
His hand went to her ass and squeezed. He felt how round and thick it was, nicely sized. He loved the way it felt in his fingers. Soft and welcoming, he would enjoy slapping those cheeks.  
Khalida realized his meaning right away, and blushed, but she put her hand on the crotch of his armor and sunk to her knees.   
“I may be Queen of Lybaras… but it’s been too long. I suppose you bested my armies… you’ve earned this much at least… besides, I’ve almost forgotten what one of these tastes like.” she whispered, pulling the possessed Druchii’s crotch plate aside, unbuckling it and taking off his pants and leg armor.  
She took a deep sniff and shuddered all over. “by Asaph’s grace, I missed being able to smell…”   
She jerked it gently before Malus walked past her and sat in her throne, leaning back into the ancient cushions. Under normal circumstances, he’d have been flayed for such insolence but… she NEEDED him to stay like this. She never wanted to go back to being a husk of bones again.  
Taking his seven inches in her mouth, the Queen of Lybaras pushed about half of it down into her throat before she gagged and drew back all the way and up just past her teeth. She did this several more times, feeling how the flesh felt against her tongue and lips, savoring the salty, musky scent and taste. Khalida’s eyes were glazed over with pure bliss as she fingered herself and worked at him.   
Malus bit his lip and leaned back as Tz’arkan chuckled. “Mortals are so easy to manipulate.” he grumbled.   
Again, the Dark Elf ignored the sound, and focused on the queen worshipping his manhood. It felt good, both physically and psychologically, to have his enemy on her knees, his cock down her throat, willingly choking herself on it. All was right with the world, it seemed.  
The Warrior Queen could feel the salty pre-cum leak in her mouth and eagerly swallowed every drop, loving the sensation of taste that she had long ago accepted she would never feel again. The feeling of her fingers pressing on her constantly dripping womanhood was also divine. It had been so long, so horribly, horribly long. She needed more.  
Gagging hard, she forced the Druchii’s dick down her throat, deepthroating until she thought she was going to throw up, pulling off finally and sucking normally, before doing it again. Khalida drooled down the shaft, hair in her face, eyes rolled up in her head, dizzy with bliss.  
Malus could feel himself reaching a limit, and forced her head off, slapping her hand away from her pussy. “You don’t get to touch yourself. You’ll get pleasure when I see fit.”  
She would have argued, but she needed this, so bad, so the Queen only nodded. The Dark Elf pinched and pulled both her nipples hard, and she got the idea. She leaned forward and pressed her pillowy mounds around his cock and began rubbing her big, warm breasts up and down his dick, giving the tip a little slurp every time it came up to her lips.   
The Druchii grunted and gripped the golden armrests of the throne hard as he climaxed. Tz’arkan chuckled in his mind as he watched, thick ropes of sticky white Druchii seed painted white her bronzed skin, covering her tits, her chin, face, several jets went in her mouth, one fell across her right eye, and some got in her black hair. She opened one eye, tongue hanging out, covered in jizz, and stared up at him. She gulped down his seed before speaking, clearly savoring the flavor.   
“More, please, it’s been so long, I need more…” she begged.   
The sight of her this desperate and wanting drove him to another throbbing erection, and Malus nodded.   
“You’ve done well, you shall have more.”  
He spread his legs to make room for her to sit in his lap. “Go on, take your seat, my queen.” he said, in a tone dripping with mockery, but Khalida didn’t care.   
She wanted a cock insider her, literally more than anything she’d ever wanted ever in her life, in this moment. Vengeance all but forgotten, her right to rule, her dignity, her honor, it all meant nothing. The Queen of Lybaras would have what she desired, and she wanted, no, she NEEDED this. She’d gone far, far, far too long without it.   
Slowly, tentatively, as if she didn’t quite believe it was happening, she slid her pussy down on that thick, hard shaft. A gasping, whimpering moan fell from her lips as the devoted follower of Asaph trembled, barely able to hold herself up. It was so perfect, so utterly incredible. Thousands of years she’d gone without, but now, now she finally had it again, she was finally going to enjoy that most wonderful and divine of pleasures.  
Malus watched her slowly slide down his dick, enjoying the sight of her ass cheeks parted slightly, seeing the tight little hole between them, and the utterly soaking and stuffed slit in front of it.   
The possessed Druchii took hold of her shoulders as she rose up again, and slammed her down on his cock, HARD. The shaft filled her and slammed into that tight, clenching hold with force, it brought the queen to orgasm instantly.   
She squirted all over the floor and throne, crying out quite noisily and arching her back, her black braids hanging down in Malus’ face as she shuddered on his cock and massaged it all over with her climax. After a few moments of sitting there, panting, he slapped her ass hard enough to leave a mark and made her gasp in sudden pain.   
“Well? Go on, I’m not done with you yet!”   
She nodded and began to ride again, but only after a few bounces on his dick, she collapsed, shuddering. The orgasm had been too much. Her legs had turned to putty.   
Rolling his eyes, he pushed her down on all fours in front of the throne, and switched holes. Using the fluid from her climax, he lubed for a moment before thrusting into her ass and fucking her relentlessly.   
The devoted of Asaph grinned in a pleasure-drunk stupor, tongue drooling on the cold, polished marble floor as she shuddered. Her arms couldn’t hold her and so she lay, face down, ass up, getting drilled. If only her court could see her now, Khalida Neferher, the mighty and feared warrior queen of Lybaras, getting her asshole fucked by a dark elf raider, like some common whore. He spanked her again and got another little gasp.  
Malus found the reaction cute and did it again, and again, enjoying how she seemed to get more into being beaten as he went. He took hold of the Queen’s hair, and yanked it upward, thinking how handy these braids were for handles. Her head wrenched up and she moaned, loud and long, clearly in a dizzy haze of ecstasy. Khalida began to thrust her ass back into him with every thrust, burying his conqueror’s cock into her submissive, defeated asshole with every thrust he made.   
There was too much bliss too long denied for her to think clearly. She was on cloud nine, utterly blind to all other duties or problems. She just needed to fuck, for hours… days… weeks… months… years? Why not? She’d spent nigh on one thousand years without even the slightest release, if she wanted to spend a year getting fucked in every hole every day and night, who would stop her?  
Malus was enjoying both the physical and symbolic pleasure of this, taking her hips in his hands and going even harder, feeling her insides stretched and squeeze around him, her tight ass utterly his to use and abuse. This ancient and noble queen, chosen of one of the desert gods, legendary for her prowess and strength in battle, and he was fucking her ass right here, in front of her throne, while she squirmed helpless and incoherently begged for more.  
Tz’arkan chuckled, low and menacing in the back of his mind, as Malus neared another release.  
“She’s helpless. These Tomb Kings have been deprived of mortal pleasures so long, and at their heart they are but mortal. They are slaves to their desires. Peel back all the nobility and royalty, and shes just a bitch in heat.”  
The Druchii bit his lip and redoubled his efforts, going harder, and harder, and harder, until finally he hilted the tight ring of her warm, welcoming butthole on his cock and climaxed. She made a low shuddering groan of total satisfaction as she reached her peak from being fucked to completion by a merciless Druchii raider. Her own orgasm rolled down her legs as she felt warm, sticky cum going deep into her guts. He pulled out and tossed her over on her back, shoving his cock in her face. It was still sticky, but she didn’t care.   
“Go on.” he ordered. “Lick it clean.”  
She did as was ordered, licking him clean like a mindless fucktoy. Once he wasn’t sticky anymore. He picked her up and bent her over the side of the throne.   
“Now I’m gonna claim your cunt for Naggaroth, and you’re going to thank me for it.”   
He thrust into her pussy, and she shuddered all over. “Y-YES!! Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou, never stop, never stop fucking me, I need it, I need your cock!”  
Those were the last coherent words she said for the rest of the day, and the night beyond.  
…  
Noon, the next day  
…  
The Queen of Lybaras awoke feeling numb… she couldn’t quite recall what had happened the night before, but she was naked, all her wrappings were gone, her desiccated body flaking dust into the bed as she looked up and saw… a Dark Elf?!  
She gasped and it all came flooding back. No, no no no, it couldn’t have been a dream, it was too real, it felt too real, and here was the proof!  
“My body, what have you done, why am I dead again?!” she cried, her voice a hoarse once more, the sound of a dead voice given words by magic.  
“I will restore you again, and for as long as you stay by my side, on one condition.”  
Please, please, anything, I will do anything!” she begged. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending yet another millennia as a husk, numb and lifeless.   
“You will follow my army with your own. Your undead legions will march with my Druchii and help me at any time we need, to conquer Nekeharan lands… and also to do war beyond that. You will serve me as long as you wish to remain whole.  
The idea of being a thrall was painful… very painful. But to be deprived of the pleasure that came with life, and the horror of spending eternity as a dry, numb to all pleasure, dead thing… that was more painful by far.  
She nodded. “I will, I swear to Asaph. Anything else?”  
“I want you to jerk me off till I climax on your skeletal face.” If her face had been capable of making expressions, she would have given him a look of disgust, and confusion.  
“Are… are you sure?” she asked.  
He nodded. “If there is one thing that the Daemon has infested, it is my sex drive. This is a new taboo and he is very curious.”  
“May I first outfit myself?”  
He hesitated, and his face changed to an annoyed expression as he stared off into the distance as if hearing a voice.  
“Yes. That’ll be fine.”  
She rose from the bed and stepped into a closet, beginning to put on the normal clothes that hid her undead body.  
“She’ll be quite fun, hm?” Tz’arkan mused.   
“I don’t know why you insist on this, but I suppose your magic has doubled my forces at a stroke. If we share this body… I’ll indulge you this once.”  
“How generous!” Tz’arkan said. “My eternal thanks oh great ruler of the body!”  
“Shut the hell up before I change my mind.”  
It was then Khalida emerged, dressed in her wrappings, her beaded neck and head dressings clattering softly as she stepped toward him. Her chestplate showed the breasts she did not have in this state, her broken mask a visage of the beauty her flesh once held, broken on one side and showing her mummified face beneath. The armor polished and brightly colored once, now faded from centuries of wear, yet still strong.   
She sunk down on the bed with him, and pulled the sheets back. He was naked and hard underneath, ready to go.   
The Warrior Queen slowly rubbed his shaft, starting gentle with her bony fingers, before picking up the pace. She could feel nothing now, and it made the entire experience very boring… but if it got her body back, it was well worth it.  
Tz’arkan purred with satisfaction in the back of Malus’ mind as they watched the undead Queen of Lybaras jerk his cock up and down, pointing it towards her face. Even without eyes, they could see she was focused on her work. The one skeletal eye socket that was exposed burned with witch fire, and the scraps of flesh were pressed in a grimace of focus, she put her all into getting him off.  
It was working, she was actually quite skilled. Tz’arkan spoke again, his voice a purr of amusement.   
“Don’t bother telling her when you cum.” he said. “I want this to be as amusing as possible.”  
Deciding a little fun couldn’t hurt, once again, the Dark Elf oblidged.   
Despite the fact that he was starting to throb and get close, the Queen could feel nothing in her dead hands, and didn’t realize. He thrust his cock up suddenly as she he climaxed. His cum got all over her face mask, into her headdress, and a rope of it even hit her right in the skeletal eye socket, the witch-fire flickering out for a moment before blazing up again.   
He groaned in bliss and leaned back on the bed as she wiped the cum off her face, and out of her eye. If she could make expressions, she would have scowled at him.  
“You have what you wanted. Now go ahead.”  
“Well?” he said. “A deal’s a deal.”  
The magic flashed again, and hit her, and in a few short minutes she was yet again restored, She smiled and took off her face mask, touching her youthful, beautiful features, before climbing up onto the bed.   
“Now… I’m ready for round two. How about you?”   
Malus smiled. “As the Queen commands.”


End file.
